


Curse That Moonshine

by chant_de_lune



Series: Post-Credit Scenes [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Humor, Missing Scene, Reunions, Sharing a Bed, Tipsy Bantering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-09-30 15:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10166243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chant_de_lune/pseuds/chant_de_lune
Summary: A series of post credit scenesCh 4: After the cut to black in "Sleeping Giants"





	1. Careful, It's Strong

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I got inspired for this fic after seeing a lot of fan jokes about the list in 4.04.  
> This is a missing scene, but not really because I pretend that Bellamy waited longer to go on the hunting trip. 
> 
> Hope you like it!  
>    
> Thanks to Jess (slytherinwasframed.tumblr.com) and Grace (bellarke2k17.tumblr.com) for being my betas!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- A missing scene from an alternate version of 4x04

“Hey, Clarke!” Jasper said from the door of the Chancellor’s office, holding a bottle of moonshine in his hand.  Clarke looked up from her schematics with a frown. 

 

“Please tell me you’re not drinking again,” she sighed, clearing off her desk.  

 

     “Nope, I’ve been good.  The bottle’s full; I just wanted to share a drink with you. Socially, of course, not looking to get smashed.” He sat down without invitation beside her, two metal cups in his other hand. “As a fresh start, to get over you tazing me, locking me up, and whatnot.” He uncorked the bottle and poured a shot for her.    

 

“I have to work on this, Jasper. I can’t take time off.” 

 

    “You should relax, Clarke. Picking the top hundred people couldn’t have been easy.  Unless you’re used to it by now,” said Jasper.  Clarke glared at him and raised the cup to her lips. 

 

“Hey, watch it. I’m still acting Chancellor,” she downed the shot and sputtered, her face twisted into a grimace. “God, that’s worse than I remember.”  

 

Jasper started chuckling, pouring a shot for himself.  “Yeah, I was saving this for a rainy day, pardon the pun.” Clarke groaned.  

 

“Are you just going to sit here and annoy me?”  

 

         “No, I’m here to tell you that I might have said some things I shouldn’t have.  I haven’t made a hard call since Mount Weather.  And besides,” he looked up at her with no hint of laughter. “I am grateful that you saved my life, those first few days on the ground. I know I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating.”       

 

“Well, you’re welcome,” said Clarke, softening her tone. “Wasn’t much of a choice considering the other person calling the shots.”  Jasper barked out a laugh.  

 

“Wow, how times change.” 

 

“How they do, indeed,” said Clarke, clinking her glass with his.  

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later and another drink in, Jasper stopped laughing and looked at Clarke curiously.   

 

“I just have one question about the list. Not a mean one,” he said, smirking.  

 

“What is it?” asked Clarke, leaning back in her seat.  

 

“You were on the list, whether or not you wrote your own name -“  

 

“Yes.” 

 

        “And you _said_ that the list was weighted towards young women who could have kids.” 

 

“That’s true. Where are you going with this?” she asked impatiently.  Jasper’s smile turned into a devilish grin.

 

      “Who were you thinking of repopulating with, huh?”  Clarke spat out her drink.  

 

“Why would you even ask me that?“

 

      “Our numbers are gonna get decimated, even if some of us survive. So who’s it gonna be?” he leaned forward and tapped his hands on the desk, mimicking a drum roll. 

 

“ _That_ is none of your business,” she said flatly.  

 

“What? I know it’s not gonna be me. C’mon, Clarke, tell your friend who has no one to mingle his DNA with,” he looked at her with a poor imitation of puppy eyes.    

 

“First of all, that’s gross. Second of all, why do you care?” Clarke pushed her cup away from her.  Jasper waved a finger at her. 

 

“Because, I know you, and I know you have a name on the tip of your tongue.  You just don’t want to say it, ‘cause you’re worried I’ll tell whoever it is.” 

 

“Given your record, that’s a valid concern,” she retorted.  He shook his head and took another sip. 

 

               “I promise I will not tell the whole camp.  And if you won’t tell me, I’ll just guess. Hhhmm…” he stroked his goatee and shut his eyes.  “There’s Jackson, but I figure that would be awkward since he kind of has a thing for your mom.”  Clarke rolled her eyes. 

 

“Do not make me think about that.”  

 

          “Okay who else…,” Jasper started thinking again. “The rest of them on the list are too old or too inexperienced.  I assume your taste includes a guy who knows what he’s doing and doesn't have erectile dysfunction?”  

 

“Get to the point before you give me a migraine,” groaned Clarke, rubbing her temples.          

 

“There’s only one guy that you would ever have a baby with,” said Jasper. “And his name starts with a B—“ 

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up. 

           “Followed by an E—“  

“Jasper, stop talking.”  

            “You got it, it’s Bellamy!” he said in a bit of a singsong voice.  

“Keep it down! This conversation is over!” hissed Clarke.  

          “So do you want me to talk quietly or to stop talking? You’re sending me mixed messages,” said Jasper as he leaned back in his seat and crossed one leg over his knee.  Clarke shook her head.  

“I am not discussing my… _personal preferences_ with you,” she said, managing to keep her voice calm.  

              “Then don’t make it personal,” shrugged Jasper.  “Just take another sip —“ he pushed her cup back towards her, “— and tell me, logically, why Bellamy is the best candidate.  Clarke glared at him for a moment before taking her cup and downing what was left.  She thought about it, letting her eyes drift to the ceiling. 

           “Bellamy and I know how to work together, and we would settle arguments quickly.  He raised Octavia, so he already has a fundamental knowledge of parenting. He’s definitely mature enough. And—“ Clarke tilted her head from side to side, “—he displays alpha male qualities that would make him a good father. There you go,” her gaze turned back to Jasper. 

He blinked, chuckling slightly.  

       “You’re done?”

“Yes.” 

      “That was very clinical of you.”

“I know. “  Jasper started at Clarke for another moment, then looked down, shaking his head.  

               “Get some sleep Clarke.  In case you didn’t know, we’re gonna try to save the world tomorrow,” he stood up, taking the bottle with him. 

“Don’t drink any more of that tonight,” Clarke called after him.  He raised the bottle over his head and shook it, letting the contents swish.   

Clarke let her face fall into the palm of her hand as the door shut behind him.  

“Curse that moonshine.”  

 

* * *

 

Bellamy was walking back from his guard shift when he caught sight of someone in the corridor.  

          “Jasper?”  

“Hey, Bellamy!” Jasper stumbled over and clapped him on the shoulder. 

          “What are you- oh God, you’ve been drinking again,” sighed Bellamy as he snatched the bottle from Jasper’s hands.  

“Not enough to get smashed. I was a good boy,” said Jasper with a hiccup.  

           “You’ve had too much.  C’mon, let’s get you to your quarters,” replied Bellamy, pulling him forward.  

“Wait, wait, wait —” Jasper turned his head to face him.  “I gotta tell you something.”  He looked from side to side, checking for other people in the hallway.  

“Clarke thinks you’re an alpha male,” he whispered.

 Bellamy frowned, confusion furrowing his brows. 

          “What?”  

“Clarke thinks you have alpha male qualities.  I’m pretty sure it turns her on.” Jasper started snickering.  

         “Is that so?” said Bellamy drily.  

    “Listen, buddy. You gotta jump on that if you haven’t already.  You don’t want the repopulation to just feel like copulation, y’know?” he punctuated his statement with a hip swing. “You need practice. You want it to feel good. Not that I would kn—“   

        “We’re done here,” Bellamy interrupted bluntly as he took Jasper by the collar and walked towards the younger boy’s quarters.   

"Oh, she’s gonna be mad I told you.”  

        “I’m sure she will be,” chuckled Bellamy as he patted Jasper good-naturedly.    

 

* * *

 

 

       “Send these kits to Raven, she’ll want them noted and stored away,” Clarke instructed a medical intern the next day.  She stepped out of the Ark and caught sight of Bellamy a few yards away. 

     “Bellamy!” she ran to catch up with him.   

 

“What’s up?” he asked, pacing to the armory.  Clarke started to speak, but then noticed that Bellamy was taking longer strides, walking faster than her.  

 

         “I was — why are you walking so fast?” she asked, jogging to keep up.  He looked at her, amused.  

 

“I normally walk this pace.” 

 

         “No, I’ve seen you slow down so I don’t have to sprint,” said Clarke, smiling.  

 

  “Huh, must be my alpha male tendencies kicking in, huh?” he smirked, looking at Clarke as her face froze in a wide-eyed stare. She stopped walking and clapped a hand over her mouth.  

 

         “Oh, why do I tell him anything?” whined Clarke as her hand moved up to her forehead.  

 

“I was wondering how much he had exaggerated,” said Bellamy. 

 

           “What else did he say to you?” she asked. Bellamy shook his head. 

 

   “Nothing but babble.”  

 

 They reached the armory, and Bellamy filled the magazine for his rifle.  

 

         “Good luck on your hunt,” said Clarke. 

 

Bellamy nodded. 

 

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”  He turned to walk away, but Clarke tugged his shoulder. 

 

                 “Please, be careful."  He looked at her softly and pulled her into a one arm hug. Clarke could’ve sworn she felt his lips press against her temple, just as her own pressed against the skin inside his collar.  

        “I always am,” he replied, his voice soothing and deep.  She held on a moment longer, enjoying the feeling of his embrace, the familiar scent that always clung to his shirt.  He pulled away from her and walked toward the gate. 

 

Clarke watched him go, shaking away intrusive yet heartwarming thoughts of warm sheets and dark-haired children.  

 

 


	2. gentle hands heal harsh wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post credit ending to 4x07

 

Clarke was sorting vials in the lab when she heard the loud, dull sound of thick-soled boots behind her.  “Is that you, Murphy?”  she asked, without looking up.  

“Clarke.”

Her name came out as a sigh of relief, and the voice made her heart stutter.  She turned to see Bellamy standing before her, looking worse for the wear, but still in one piece.  

“Bellamy!”  

She dropped everything and ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  Bellamy hugged her back instantly, his embrace firm and unwavering.  She felt his breath against her neck as he exhaled, shaking slightly in her arms. The room was entirely silent, save for the humming of the machines and the sound of their breathing. She rocked on her heels, holding him longer than she ever had before.  Finally, he pulled away, but stayed within a hand’s reach.   

“What are you doing here?” asked Clarke.  

“Your mom told Kane about the intruder.  He drove me down here on guard detail.”    

Clarke furrowed her brows.   

“The intruder was alone; we don’t need a guard.  Are you okay?”  

She looked at him, worried. Bellamy’s jaw clenched, as if biting back a knee-jerk response.  

“Something happened, and it was bad.  Kane thinks I need a reprieve.  Said I should take a day down here to rest, that I’d get picked up by the rover tomorrow.”  His tone was gruff and disapproving, but Clarke could see the subtle wonder in his eyes as he gazed around at the computers and monitors.  

“You can tell me about it later.  Right now, you need food.  You look like you haven’t eaten anything in days.”

She took him by the hand and led him outside the lab.  

“Jackson, are the drones disengaged?”  she said into the radio.  The answer came back after a few moments.

 

“Drones are down, you’re good.”

 

* * *

 

 

They walked the half mile to the house in comfortable silence. Bellamy let out a low whistle as they approached the veranda.   

“You’ve been hiding a castle from me, Princess,” he said, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.  Clarke smiled, opening the door to the kitchen. 

“You haven’t seen anything yet.  Come in, make yourself at home.”  

Bellamy walked in and sat down as Clarke searched for a bowl in the cabinets.  

“Your hair, it’s uh… it looks good,” said Bellamy as he watched Clarke moving about the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder and smiled again.

“Another perk of this place is an amazing shower.  You should take one after you eat.”

“I will.”

Clarke ladled some of Murphy’s stew into a bowl, grabbed a spoon, and set it down in front of him.  He started eating slowly, eyes widening at the taste.  

“Did you make this?” he asked.  Clarke shook her head.

“I wish.  That was all Murphy.”   

The brief moment of disappointment on Bellamy’s face was quickly followed by the clatter of his spoon on the table as he registered her words.  

“ _Murphy_ did this?”  he said with his eyebrows raised.  Clarke nodded.

“I couldn’t believe it either.”  

Bellamy huffed, returning to the stew. “Well, I’ll be damned.”   

Clarke laughed softly, wiping her hands with a dishcloth.  

“I’ll go find you a new outfit.  The shower is upstairs in the bedroom on the left.”  

Bellamy frowned. “My clothes are fine.”

She paused at the foot of the stairway. “And I’m getting you new ones,” she said stubbornly, continuing upstairs. She rifled through a chest of drawers until she found a pair of sweatpants, boxers, and a T shirt that all seemed to be about his size.  Absentmindedly, she heard the clattering dishes downstairs as she felt around for a softer shirt.  Her ears picked up the sound of gentle footfalls on the staircase. She closed the drawer, gathering the clothes to meet him at the door.

“In here,” she called, and Bellamy walked in.  

“I left my boots down –” His voice trailed off as he gazed at the spacious room.  His eyebrows disappeared underneath his bangs.  

“Clarke, this is –”  

“Amazing?” She smiled.  “I know.”  

Bellamy crossed to one of the armchairs in the corner of the room and unzipped his jacket.  

“This is nicer than Mount Weather, Alpha Station…”  He pulled off his jacket and froze at the sound of Clarke’s gasp.  

“What is it?”   

His eyes followed Clarke as she gingerly pressed against the burnt skin on his arm.

“You’re hurt.  What happened?”  Her voice carried the same worried tone from earlier.  

Bellamy inhaled sharply.     

“Your mom didn’t tell you about the black rain after she radioed Kane?”  

Clarke shook her head, lines forming on her brow.  

“She kept it from me, so I wouldn’t worry,” she sighed.  “Okay, take the shower, but be careful.  Hot water might aggravate the burns.  I’ll come back with the med kit.” She made it halfway to the door when Bellamy said her name.  She turned, staring at him while he held the bundle of clothes.

 

“I’m okay.  It’s not that bad.” 

 

“Bellamy,” she said firmly.  “I’ll knock when I come back.”  

 

* * *

 

She closed the door and went downstairs.  Finding her med kit, she emptied it and checked her supplies.  

 

“Bandages, tape, salve, where’s the antiseptic?” she mumbled to herself as she reorganized the bag.  She closed it and washed her hands in the sink.  Pacing back upstairs with the kit, she paused outside the door as she heard the shower running. When it stopped, she bounced on her heels and waited a few more minutes.  

“Are you done, Bellamy?” she asked as she knocked on the door.  

“Yeah.”  

At his response, she entered the room.  The clothes she had found hung loose and comfortable on his frame, and he had slung the towel around his neck.  

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” said Clarke with a grin as she watched Bellamy rub the towel through his wet curls.  

“Warm water and privacy! Who crowned me king?”  he chuckled.  Clarke laughed, setting her kit on the bed.

“A lot of teenage criminals.”   

Bellamy smiled for the briefest of moments before his eyes became sad and distant.  Clarke frowned, reaching for his hand and gently pulling him onto the bed beside her.  She opened her pack and wet a clean cloth with antiseptic.  

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she dabbed the open sores on his arm.  Bellamy barely flinched.

“I’m fine. The rain was worse.”  

Clarke stifled a soft cry of dismay.   “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”  

Bellamy’s shoulders stiffened, and she pulled away from his arm.

“No. No, Clarke, you were needed here.”  He leaned back into her and she continued to clean the burns.  “Do you remember Peter? One of the dropship kids?”

Clarke nodded as she took out the jar of salve and uncapped it.  “He got poison ivy on the second day.”  

She began rubbing the gel on his arms.  Bellamy sighed in relief, eyes fluttering shut.  

“That feels good. Peter and his dad, Mark –” he swallowed as if trying to remove a lump in his throat.  “They were outside the gates when the rain fell.  So was Octavia.”  Clarke took more salve and applied it to his other arm.   “I took a suit and tried to go after them, but it burned through.  That’s how I got these,” he said as he lifted his arms.  Clarke reached into her pack and pulled out two rolls of bandages.  

“Why did you even use a suit? I thought they were all damaged in the fire.” Bellamy looked up at her briefly, shaking his head.  

“I thought duct tape would be enough to seal it.”  

Clarke opened her mouth to scold him but closed it quickly, settling for a frown.  She unrolled the bandages, nodding for him to continue.  

“They found shelter under an overhang only a mile or so from Arkadia,” said Bellamy as Clarke wound the bandage around his arm.  “I drove out in the rover. I had the radio, but I could barely see, it was so dark.”  He turned his hips so Clarke could wrap his other arm.  “And then,” his voice cracked, and he took a breath. “The back wheel got stuck in the mud.  I couldn’t get out.”

Clarke tied off the end and rubbed his shoulder, as he had done for her only days ago.

“No, you couldn’t have, and not without a working suit, either.” Bellamy looked at her, and then back down at his feet.

“Mark started screaming at me.  The wind was blowing the rain onto him, Peter was crying.  They couldn’t see the headlights.”

Tears welled in Bellamy’s eyes and his shoulders slumped forward.  Clarke caught him, gently tugging him into her arms.  For a few minutes, she held him, rocking him back and forth as he wept.  The room was completely silent, save for the strong thumping of their hearts, and the sound of his cries.  His hand slid into her hair and his other pressed into her hip, holding her close to him.  Soon his breathing steadied, and he began speaking again.  

“I still remember the moment when their line went dead,” he said in a choked voice, muffled against her shoulder.

“Beyond your control,” whispered Clarke, tousling the damp hair at the nape of his neck.  

“I failed.”  

“But you are not to blame,” she said, pulling back to look him in the eye.  “When Jasper found the list, he told me I wasn’t God.”  She took a breath, glancing down at his wounds.  “He was right, Bellamy.  Neither of us are God.  I can’t make blood turn black and you can’t stop rain from falling.”  She reached out and brushed a tear from his face with her thumb.  “We are human, and we have to accept our shortcomings if we’re going to save who we can.”  

Bellamy nodded slowly, clenching his jaw.  “I have to give up on Octavia.  I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”  

Clarke placed her hand on his cheek.  “If anyone knows the caves in those woods, it’s her.”  She bit her lip, fear rising in her throat.

“Monty and Harper?”

“They’re fine,” said Bellamy, leaning into the softness of her hand.  He paused. “It’s for the best, right? She was always going to be bitter.”

Clarke shrugged, dropping her hand to hold one of his.

“You had to be a father for her, and you didn’t have one as a guide.  You did everything you could.”  

Bellamy let out a heavy sigh.   

“Kane’s trying to make me his son. Saying that he’s proud of me, that my mother would be.”  

He scowled.   “He can go float himself.  He executed my mother, hell, he stood by when my sister beat me up, everyone did.”    

Clarke furrowed her brows, eyes widening.  “You never told me that,” she said, a hint of horror in her voice.   

“I thought you would’ve guessed from all the cuts,” said Bellamy sardonically.  Clarke traced the faint scars on his cheekbone.  

“Bellamy, your face is always covered in cuts,” she said, her tone tinged with sadness.  “How long?”  

“Till she was tired,” he whispered.  “At the time, I thought I deserved it.”  Clarke shook her head.

“You never did.  She was wrong to do that to you.”  Her hand grazed his arm.  “If she doesn’t stop resenting you, she’s making a huge mistake.”   Bellamy sighed, shifting until he was laying straight on the bed.  

“I’m exhausted,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Then sleep,” replied Clarke.  Bellamy looked around, focusing on the bags at the foot of the bed.  

“Your stuff’s in here, I can move—” He rose to get up, but Clarke held onto his arm.  

“I don’t mind having you here, unless you do.”

“I’d rather stay,” mumbled Bellamy, leaning back.  His head missed the pillow and landed on Clarke’s lap instead.  “Sorry,” he said as he jerked up, but Clarke only smiled and pulled him back down, caressing his shoulder with one hand and his hair with the other.  

“Just rest, Bellamy,” she whispered as he closed his eyes.  Closing her own, she began to chant softly under her breath.  

“ _I’m alive, thanks to you. Raven’s alive, thanks to you.  Miller’s alive, thanks to you. Monty’s alive, thanks to you._ ”  

She kept reciting name after name, from the surviving members of the 100 to everyone saved from the chip.  Bellamy, who had stared in surprise at first, closed his eyes again and soon began dozing, finally dropping into a deep sleep after a minute.  As Clarke ended her mantra, she opened her eyes, gazing fondly at his serene face.          

 

A knock came at the door, and it was cracked open to reveal Miller and Murphy.  Clarke waved them off, mouthing “he’s fine.”  They nodded and closed the door behind them.  Once it was quiet again, she gently slid Bellamy’s head off her lap and readied herself for sleep.  She crept in under the covers, careful not to disturb him.  

 

“I want to hear what you were going to say on the beach, Bell,” she whispered.  “But not yet.  Not until we survive this.” And with a final look at his face, she closed her eyes, relaxing in the warmth of the blankets and Bellamy beside her.  

 

_Let her sleep, for when she wakes, she will move mountains._

  
_Let him sleep, for when he wakes, he will put the world back on his shoulders._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! 
> 
> So this is going to be a series of stories where I just insert scenes as I see fit.  
> I will try to keep continuity, but know that each chapter will be based off something in canon. 
> 
> Tell me what you think! Thank you for reading!


	3. the calm before the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scene before 4x10  
> The morning of the conclave

Bellamy rose from his side of the bed that morning, just after the break of dawn.  He washed his face in the basin in the corner of the chamber, and then slipped on his shirt and boots.  His gaze turned to the figure still asleep in the blankets.  Clarke’s hair had tumbled from its braids and was covering her shoulders.  Her face was serene, calm even as she shifted closer to the empty side of the bed.  Bellamy smiled gently as he sat down on the bed.  He brushed her hair away from her eyes.  

“Clarke, wake up.  We’ll have to leave soon.” he said, just loud enough to rouse her.  Clarke stirred with a soft sigh, her eyelashes flickering as they caught sight of him.   Bellamy felt his heart do somersaults.  

“I did something stupid yesterday,”  she mumbled, rubbing her eyelids.  He nodded, cracking a small smile.  

“It’s not every day you try to take over an entire religion,” he said, a hint of levity in his voice.  Clarke sat up, groaning.  

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her hand on her cheek. 

“I’m not the very devout person that you need to apologize to,” he said with a small shrug.  Clarke nodded. 

“I know,” she looked up at him with tired eyes.  “But you don’t hate me?”   Bellamy shook his head, placing his hand on her knee.  

“Do you hate me for any of the stupid decisions I’ve made?”  Clarke was somber for a moment, and then smiled, shaking her head as she got out of bed.  

“I mean, I’ve always questioned that hair gel you had the first day on the ground,” she said as she reached for her armor-padded jacket.  Bellamy let out a small laugh.  

“And I’ll always question the _high fashion_ of Polis,” he said cynically, walking over to her as she adjusted the chain on  her coat.   He came up from behind, putting his hand on her shoulder.   

“You don’t have to wear this, not today.” he said in a soft whisper.  Clarke sighed, then shook her head.  

“I do. Otherwise they’ll see a weak little girl.”  

“Clarke,”  he turned her shoulders to face him.  “You can stop letting them dictate who you are.”  Clarke looked up at him, her eyes sad and weary.  

“You’re right,” she said as she unfastened the jacket and left it on the bed.

“No more negotiation.”    She went over to the basin.  Her hands shook as she rinsed them, but she tried to steady them before Bellamy noticed.  He did.  

“I…I didn’t want it to come to this. I didn’t want more bloodshed, I -“  she stammered as she turned around.  

 

“I know,” said Bellamy as he walked over to her.  He put his hand over hers, and the trembling stopped.  

“I know you.  You blame yourself for every death you see.  So you took a leap to prevent that.”   Clarke inhaled deeply, her posture relaxing as she looked up at him.  

“You do the same, you know. Blame yourself.”  Bellamy nodded slowly.  

“But when that death wave hits, our reasons don’t matter anymore,” he said in a low voice.  “So let the guilt die, let the world die,” he pushed a strand of Clarke’s hair away from her face, “Let Wanheda die.”      

Clarke took a deep breath.  “Our people are the priority. But there’s nothing we can do to save them.  Not anymore.” 

Bellamy’s jaw ticked. “There’s still hope,” he whispered.  Clarke gave a small smile.  

“Yeah.  Octavia won’t back down.”   Bellamy let out a huff.  

“She never has. She was always a pain in my ass,”  he turned to look at Clarke with a slight smirk. “So were you at one point.”  Clarke scoffed, cocking her head at Bellamy.  

“Only because you were being a bigger ass.”  He smiled at her response, stepping even closer.  

“Oh, those were the days,” he said fondly.  Clarke sighed.  

“Everything was so simple.  All people wanted me to do was…”  

“Stitch their wounds? Treat every cut and bruise?” asked Bellamy, the fondness growing stronger in his voice.   Clarke nodded, eyes almost tearing up.  Bellamy pulled her into his arms and rested his cheek on her head.  They swayed back and forth for a moment, before Clarke lifted her face, no sign of tear streaks.  The background noise of busy Polis faded into a dull buzz, and the moment felt safe.    She cupped Bellamy’s face with her hands, not wanting to leave the security of their chamber.   Bellamy’s lips parted as he moved his hand from her waist to her hair.   

He leaned down just as Clarke rose up on her toes.  

A harsh knocking came at the door from the other end of the room.  

 

“Bellamy Blake,” boomed Roan’s voice.  “I’d like to speak with you.”  

“Is my presence necessary, Your Majesty?” Bellamy called back, his arms still around Clarke. 

“Yes,” came the blunt reply.   Bellamy sighed.  

“Go,” said Clarke as she toyed with the curls at the nape of his neck.  “We can’t make more enemies today.”  Bellamy pulled away, but not before he pressed his lips to her forehead.  

“I’ll see you soon,” he said.  Clarke managed a smile and a nod. 

“See you soon.” 

* * *

 

 

Clarke approached Gaia later that day, mentally reciting her words.  

"I apologize for trying to take the chip.  It was wrong of me to disrespect your traditions, no matter how benevolent I thought me intentions were,” she said, bowing her head for a moment.

Gaia regarded her with a cool gaze, then nodded.  

“Thank you, Clarke kom Skaikru.  I appreciate that.”  The two stood at the base of the tower, regarding the bustle of people as they made their way toward the public forum. 

Indra joined them, her hand clasped on the sword at her belt.  

“I am sure that you are grateful it is Octavia fighting, and not her brother,” she said, in a questioning yet warm tone.   Clarke furrowed her brows, finally settling on a firm nod. 

“It is a relief, Indra.  I hope the conclave proceeds as per tradition.” Indra gave her a nod in return.  Clarke looked over her shoulder and saw Bellamy standing next to Jaha and Kane.  

 

She sighed as she walked over, hoping he could understand the choice she would make that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I've had this for a while and just haven't gotten around to posting it.  
> I don't have many ideas for more scenes but I'll see if anything arises.  
> I kinda feel like abandoning this series because I don't think I can go back to the first chapter after Jasper's death.  
> I've been in a rut lately with writing so I'm hoping this will help me get back on track. 
> 
> Please comment, if you read this. That would be nice :)


	4. the risky rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5x03 post credit scene

Diyoza arched an eyebrow.   "I always hated that mug." 

She waved her hand and several guns were lowered. "How about we discuss this inside?" she nodded her head towards the church. 

 

 "When he drops that remote," rumbled Bellamy, his glare fixed on McCreary's thumb hovering over the button.  Diyoza sighed, snapping her fingers.  

 

McCreary dropped the remote, matching Bellamy's glower. 

 

"Lieutenant Shaw," added Diyoza, "You're the nice guy. Help the prisoner up and get her inside." Her eyes flicked back. "And you, follow us." 

 

Bellamy watched apprehensively as a younger, slimmer man dropped his weapon to approach Clarke.Some of the anxiety in his chest released when he saw the lieutenant’s gentle hands and apologetic demeanor.His eyes found Clarke’s as she rose, her lips sputtering.

 

“B-Bel-“ she collapsed when she tried to stand, and whatever was still lying dormant in Bellamy’s heart snapped to attention.He broke composure and took one step forward before freezing.This was a hostage negotiation, not the time for erratic movements. 

 

Fortunately, Diyoza seemed not to care, her eyes trained on Shaw hoisting Clarke into his arms and walking towards the church.Bellamy’s frame shuddered as the visual hit him in the gut with a visceral memory of watching 17-year old Clarke fainting into another boy’s arms, looking just as frail. 

 

His hands ached with the need to touch her, to pull her close and bury his face in her hair and find the scent underneath the fumes of earth and death, the scent that was purely Clarke and calmed his racing heart.

He started walking behind Shaw.Diyoza casted one last look at McCreary.

“I think we’re done with the collar for today.Find another outlet for your sadism.”

 

McCreary looked visibly annoyed by her request, and Bellamy’s hands automatically clenched into fists.Six years ago, he would have killed this man with one shot to the head, one in the chest if he wanted this monster to suffer.But space tempered his rage into a simmer of pensive readiness.

 

The church was dimly lit with lanterns when he and Diyoza sat down, Clarke tied to a chair next to her.Underneath her short, golden fringe, Bellamy saw ugly welts and burnt skin left on her neck by the collar.

 

_Fuck, there’s aloe salve in my pack, I-_

 

But Diyoza’s steely glare kept him still in his seat; she had taken back control of the situation.

 

“Before we start anything else, I have one more question.” She turned to Clarke. “You said you got Becca’s serum before the second wave, but your little girl was born with it?” 

 

Clarke nodded.Bellamy bit his tongue on his own questions when Diyoza addressed him.“So are you from the ground or from space?”

 

Bellamy cocked an eyebrow.“Both. Grew up on the Ark, came down to Earth to see if it was habitable,” he paused, “Then the second wave came.We took one of Becca’s old shuttles.”He gritted his teeth, unable to look at Clarke. “But there were launch complications.Not everyone got onboard.”

 

Diyoza nodded.“I see.And you left no one else behind?”

 

Bellamy took a breath.“Yes, I closed the hatch myself.”

 

He saw a slight shudder from Clarke out of the corner of his eye, but he forced himself to ignore it.Diyoza glanced at Clarke briefly before turning to him. 

“Must have hurt, leaving your wife and daughter like that,” she said coldly. 

 

Bellamy’s heart-rate ratcheted up a notch, but before either he or Clarke could say a word, Diyoza handed him a radio.

 

“I should have heard back from men I sent out, and I have not.That means they’ve encountered something,” her steely glare returned, “my patience is wearing thin. Make good on your threat.”

 

Swallowing hard, Bellamy clicked the call button.“Raven, are you there?”

 

A tense moment passed, then she responded, “I’m here.I’m at the control panel for the sleepers on Elegius IV.”

 

He allowed himself one moment of relief, seeing the clench in Diyoza’s jaw. 

 

“Who did they take? Was it your sister?” Raven asked.Bellamy turned back to Clarke.

 

“No,” he said quickly, unable to hide the fondness in his eyes and voice. “Believe it or not, they have our princess.” 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see how the rest of the season goes. 
> 
> Please leave your thoughts in the comments!


End file.
